


Fated

by CryDontSmile



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Death, Gen, Plot changes, Timeline changes, Young Allen, well kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryDontSmile/pseuds/CryDontSmile
Summary: At only 10 years old, Allen's whole life seems to have been ripped away from him after the event of Mana's death. Seeing there in no hope, he chooses that he will simply wait for his death, one he deserves as being the Devil child. However, things change, but not in the way you'd expect - instead, in the form of a whole new entity, one that resides within him.





	1. Prologue

**A story written for someone on FF.net. This chapter is somewhat short, mainly because it's a prologue, if anything. Just an intrductory to the happenings of the story. Enjoy.**

* * *

  **~XoX~**

It was horrifying.

The colour was horrifying. Tainted. Sinful.

_Help…_

Had he said that aloud? Or was it a simple thought? A thought willed into happening by what was before his very eyes, which were flooded by hot tears.

“…Mana…”

That was out loud. He knew it. He _knew_ it. But… he didn’t understand… Why had this happened to him? Tears broke free, sending the dam that had walled them up crashing down, allowing the liquid to pour down over his reddened cheeks. His pale lips trembled, and then parted, another soft plea slipping past them. “Mana… Wake up… Please wake up…”

No response. With that, the young, auburn-haired boy reached out with severely shaking hands, horrified at how stiff his father’s shoulders were as he placed his gloved hands upon them. He shook Mana’s shoulder, roughly, even when the vigorous shaking of his hands could have done the same thing for him. His voice grew louder, and broke into a higher pitch, his eyes wide and frantic. “Mana! Mana! Please! You have to wake up!”

There was still no movement, not a twitch from the cooling body before him, which slowly went into rigor mortis, stiffening further. Still, the silver-eyed child refused to give up, even with the dark, lurking knowledge that his father was dead residing in the back of his mind. Finally, he tipped his head back, gritting his teeth before screaming at the top of his lungs in one final plea.

_“Manaaaaa!!”_

…

Nothing…

 _No…_ The boy – Allen, as Mana had named him – still gripped the shoulder of his father’s coat desperately, shaking, even with the awareness that it wouldn’t do a single thing. He was as good as… gone…

_Mana’s gone…_

Those two words reverberated around his brain, sending him into hysterics, his body falling limply to the cold ground. He pulled his knees in, tucked in next to the body beside him, ignoring the blood that soaked into his clothes. He wailed, wailed as loudly as he possibly could, knowing there was nobody left to hear him. His tears fell to the reddened stones, mingling with the blood, and even as his throat grew raw with the volume of the screams and wails, he did not stop. He couldn’t. He was alone _again._ He had hoped… he… he had believed he had finally found the person he could stay with… the person who wouldn't look upon his left arm in disgust and dub him the _Devil’s child._

He _was_ a child of the Devil. A monster. Because no human would kill their own father. This was his fault. This entire thing… was his fault. Even like this, as a child of barely ten, he hated himself, more than he had loathed anything in the entire world. He was no better than Cosimo. He was no better than the Devil himself.

Right here, in this moment, lying with the dead body of his father…

He wanted nothing more than to die.

 _Stupid hope… Stupid arm… Stupid, stupid, stupid…_ The word rattled in his mind, and it hurt, but he deserved it. He deserved the burn of his cheeks and tears rolled down them, he deserved to barely be able to breathe as his small body shook with violent sobs, and he deserved the ache in the very centre of his heart that he felt would never be cured.

It was cold, it was dark, it was painful, and he deserved _nothing_ more than just that.

* * *

  **~XoX~**

The creaking of the branches had once frightened him, late at night when he was so tired that his eyes closed of their own accord. Now, they sounded comforting, they were the only things that would talk to him. They sounded like home.

Who would have thought that home would be a grave? The grave on top of the hill. The grave beneath the old, creaking tree. The grave with the words _Mana Walker_ inscribed upon the stone.

It was freezing, and the wind played with his dirty hair, but it was okay. He was… _content_ here. Lying on the turned dirt, knowing his father’s body was just six feet below him. He believed… that other people would find that weird – no, the behaviour of the Devil’s child – but he did not care. He didn’t have to do what they expected…

“What’s a young boy like you doing here~? Shouldn’t you be with your family~?”

Allen looked up, eyes devoid of any emotion whatsoever, heavily shadowed beneath by the lack of sleep he had adjusted to since being on this cold hill with the creaking tree. The man (was it a man?) was leaning around Mana’s grave, _touching_ Mana’s grave, and he hated it. But, in the long run, he couldn’t do a thing about it.

This… _creature_ , the one who had spoken to him, did not seem human, or friendly. His smile was huge, and Allen had no doubt that a mouth that big could easily bite his entire head off, especially with those sharp canines… He was also rather… fat, if he were to be incredibly blunt about the fact. _It’s not like I’m straight up telling him…_

And those eyes, the eyes beneath those shining glasses, they unnerved him. They were gold, _bright gold,_ like a predator. They flashed with the same gleam that a predators would, as he knew from the circus, where they had plenty of wild, ferocious animals. This man was like one of them, but… turned into a person… 

The man didn't seem to like Allen's lack of response and repeated his second question again. “Hmm~? Shouldn’t you be with your family~?”

“Family…” Allen repeated softly, voice barely audible over the whispering of the wind. He didn’t like that word, or use it, not anymore. It sounded foreign and awkward on his tongue. There had been many times that he had seen families holding hands as they walked through the streets, or eating together in the warmth, smiles being shared around the table. He had never had that, and he doubted he ever would. No, he was perfectly content to waste away here. He was with Mana here.

“No… I don’t…” Allen trailed off at that, casting his eyes away, up to the bright moon that cast light down upon them.

“Ah…” The big man sounded sympathetic, Allen supposed, but it didn’t suit his grating voice. There was something in there, something that remained very… dark. Even the vibes the man gave off confirmed that. Allen had always been an ace at reading people and their behaviour, so he was well aware that what he believe of this man was likely true. And someone like this should _not_ be anywhere _near_ his father’s grave. “So this… Mana Walker… must be your father…?” It was both a question and a statement, somehow, as though this creature was asking, but already knew. Still, Allen answered, voice wispy.

“Yes.”

“I could bring him back, you know?”

Allen did not think he had ever moved quicker in his entire life. In a second, maybe even less, he bolted upright, staring at this round man with wide eyes. The man giggled in response, moving away from Mana's grave, swinging a pink, pumpkin-headed umbrella that Allen was surprised he hadn't noticed earlier. Against all logic in the world – although Allen supposed there was no logic in someone being that fat and still able to _walk_ – the umbrella screeched each time it was swung, but that wasn’t that had truly peaked Allen’s interest. All previous thoughts, beliefs, were abolished in the face of hope, something Allen had believed he had taught himself not to do. Seemed he wasn’t even listening to his own advice. “…You could bring him… back…?”

“Of course I could! I could bring your father back to life; bring him back from that dirty God who claimed his life.” With a wave of his gloved hand, a large, metal skeleton appeared beside the grave, glinting in the moonlight. The man’s everlasting grin twitched just the slightest bit wider, gleaming teeth shifting as he spoke. Everything about that should have put Allen on edge, but the warmth that spread through his chest seemed to push all thoughts and common sense out of the way. “All you have to do is call his name~”

Funny, the things people will do when they’ve lost a loved one. They don’t consider the consequences, the logic, the danger; they only consider themselves. Selfishly, they wish to bring back what they have lost, for themselves. They believe, for some reason, that they can bring someone back from the dead, which – if truly considered – shouldn’t be a possibility at all. But they held a foolish hope, let it nestle its way into their heart and take over their system, and they acted for themselves because of their own sadness.

And that was exactly what Allen Walker did, and as he opened his mouth and shouted out the words, a new hope sparked deep in his chest, one that had been extinguished from the day Mana had pushed him out of the way of that carriage, filling the void that had been created on that fateful day where his only family had been killed. “Manaaaa!”

Allen waited in anticipation, watched on hopefully as the single word was engraved into the forehead of the skeleton in looping, cursive letters. Maybe, he could apologise, apologise for killing Mana, say sorry for being the Devil's child. And maybe, just maybe, Mana would forgive him. Mana would still _love_ him, just like he had before.

Slowly, the skeleton twitched, breaking away from the box that held it up, creaking in a way that resembled the tree above them. Its head tilted, as did its body, and Allen had to fight back the urge to cringe away from that awful grate of metal on metal. Mana, he could have Mana back, he wanted his father back, he-

**_…..?!...._ **

Allen paused, distracted by the sudden thought – one that didn’t feel as though it were his own – entering his head. It was like a shout, but… he couldn’t actually hear it…

**_…A- …!_ **

_What…?_

“Allen…” Allen’s head snapped up, and the odd thoughts were forgotten completely as he stared in awe at the large skeleton before him, a smile twitching at his gaping mouth as it moved toward him. _Mana… That’s Mana’s voice…_ Could it… could it really be…? Could he have his father back…? Could he once again be with someone, be happy, be part of…

A family…?

Those thoughts were pushed away quite quickly as Mana spoke again, a purple aura surrounding him life flames, voice angered. “Allen! What have you done?! You’ve turned me into an Akuma!”

“N-No, I-” Allen stuttered in a search for words, but none made it past his tongue. Tears pooled in his mercury eyes, stinging like when he cut himself on a piece of glass, and the tears that were welling were the replacement for the blood that would usually bead on his pale skin. 

And at that moment, it began to snow. Slowly, lightly, small white flakes drifted down from the heavens above, so pure and untouched, sparkling like the pretty rings some ladies wore on their fingers. Shamefully, Allen could not live up to how pure they were, already too deeply tainted to ever be alright. So, as the snowflakes swirled in the icy wind, down to the ground, he could only think of how they would soon melt away, forever gone from this earth.

**_…Ru-!!..._ **

"Take this boy's skin!" The fat man cackled in glee, his glasses flashing as moonlight bounced off of the glass, and Allen knew he should have trusted his original instincts, having related him to a predator. “Kill him and wear his skin as you own~!”

“I curse you! I curse you, Allen Walker!” A loud scream was torn from Allen’s lips as he ducked, tried to escape the claw swung at him by his own father, but was too late by a fraction. A single finger dug into his left eye, and he could only screech in pain as the flesh was torn, a single seam from his forehead down to his cheek. Pain also began to sear in his left hand, the one that was always so useless, the marking of the Devil upon his cursed body. Maybe… he was right all along. This was what he _deserved._ He had killed Mana, and now Mana would kill him, a seemingly fair trade.  

**_Run! Allen, you have to run!_ **

_Who the h-?!_

Before he could even finish the thought, it felt as though he were shoved, and quickly he discovered that…

Where was he?!

All he could gather was that he was somewhere desolate, dark, a wasteland, and he sat upon a stone chair like a king would his throne. Two wings protruded from the chair, but that didn’t help at all. It was cold and dark here, like on the hill, but in no way did this feel homely. In a way… it felt sickening, but in a _familiar_ aspect. Like he had been here before, spent hours and hours sitting right here in this chair, waiting, when he was fully aware that he had done nothing of the sort.   _I need to know! What’s going on?!_

**_Shut up! I’m helping you!_ **

_But-_

**_QUIET!_ **

That startled Allen into not speaking, completely. The voice had changed, from being gentle and patient to anger, just like that. He could almost _feel_ the heat of that anger rubbing on his skin as the single word was yelled, and that was enough for him to know to stay nice and silent. Thus, he waited, thudding heart slowing beneath his ribs, his breath coming back to his body as the adrenaline drained. He felt that he should be feeling pain, panic, fear, but… there was nothing. It was just… bleak. Not quite content, but bordering on it. The white-haired boy kept his left eye closed, but seemed unharmed now, as no blood could be found dripping from the laceration he had received from…

_Mana…_

Before he could even begin to dwell on his darkening, crushing thoughts, there was a pause – but more of a mental one. And then, gently – in a way that Allen would sheepishly admit soothed him – the voice from before spoke.

**_I’m sorry about that. I could not let you be killed, or let that Innocence activate. Not yet. …I am the 14 th. I have control of your body right now. That’s all you need to know. _ **

_What?! That’s nowhere near enough information! What the bloody hell am I doing here, huh? How did you… get_ control _of my body? Answer!_

There was a sigh then, an exasperated one, one that warned Allen to just stay quiet for now. **_I said that’s all you need to know. End of._**

 _Well…_ Allen supposed that for now, he could only sit on this rather uncomfortable chair, stare into the darkness before him with his opened right eye, and wait.

* * *

 

  **Hope you enjoyed that~ Pretty short, but it's only the prologue, so it's okay. I'll aim to write longer chapters later on. Hope I didn't end this one on a sour note, but I remember being really tired when I wrote it, ahaha.**

 

**CryDon'tSmile**

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive, kids. I'm alive.

**Y'know, technically, I'm on hiatus or whatever. Lack of motivation and yada yada. However, I still decided to put out a little chapter 1 for you guys. It's a bit past 4am at this point, and it was a sudden** **_oh man let's write_ ** **thing, so I can't confirm it being any good. Nevertheless, enjoy!**

**Oh! I should also mention that this contains a few flashback/timejump things, so don't be too confused, haha! I just wanted to add a bit of Allen's past as 'Red'.**

* * *

**Fated**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

**~XoX~**

Red was careful when he did what he did. Smooth. Precise. _Apologetic_. Oh, but that was a façade. Completely so. But others were just too gullible, too invested in their _own lives_ to know.

His right hand was weighed down with the coins that nestled within it, as well as… a ring, he believed, judging on the smooth, empty circle of metal pressed against his palm. Too big for his little, lithe fingers. The man of higher class walked on after yelling at him for their bump, and Red had apologised so convincingly, too.

Seemed he didn't realise that his pockets were now _empty._ Idiot. And what other way was Allen to get food and keep Cosimo happy?

His silver eyes were cold as he made his way along, lips twitching with the smirk that threatened to cradle them. He silently slipped his loot into the pocket of his tattered pants, stepping through the snow. He'd almost become numb to the pain of aching bones from the constant cold. _Almost._ It wasn't something one could completely ignore, not when it dug right down to his marrow. Marrow, right? He heard someone say something about it to a dog eating a bone once… the squishy red insides of it, right? He'd poked it once, just out of sheer curiosity. It wasn't as bad as he had thought – maybe it was edible? He had never gotten so far as to try it, though, as he had been yelled at while his finger remained knuckle-deep in the slimy stuff.

Yes, all the way down to his _marrow_ was cold. Especially in his fingers, but only on his right. His left – red, twisted, _deformed –_ seemed unable to feel the cold at the rate. It made it easy to scrape up snow whenever the damned shovel he had to lug around broke. But he always left his mitt on – no point letting anyone see the monstrous creation that was his left arm.

Shunned. Silenced. Scorned.

**_Hey, boy._ **

… _What?_

Red hair – _red, his_ name, _all he had been labelled by –_ flung about his face as he turned sharply on heel. Who had said that? They had been talking to him… he was _sure._ Never had he been more convinced than in that moment. However, after a sufficient glance all the way 'round and back again, he found nobody the culprit of the sound. Someone glowered at him from afar, paying an overly acute sense of attention to him, someone involved with the law if anything was to be divulged by the uniform, but…

No, they were too far away. The voice had been right there, right in his ear, right in his _mind._

**_Yes, you. I…. tal…. I ..._ **

It was replaced with an absence, the voice, the one that _was not in his head,_ even if it seemed so. However, the absence was hollow – it was not just something leaving, but something leaving a space. The empty, rhetoric static of thoughts did not fill this gap, for some reason. It was like they consciously skirted around it, afraid of what may be resting there.

"Don' be stupi'." It was only a thought, but it came out as a mutter. "There's no voice in yer 'ead," he kicked his foot against the ground, sending a stone scattering down the street, "n' there ne'er will be. That's _stupid."_ Only _crazy_ people had voices in their head, and Red was not crazy. No, he was as sane as sane could be, he was sure. After all, he had lived in this world for a while now and had only ever been met with harsh conditions. He knew more than a top-shelf, rich snob. He knew how life really was.

Without money, it seemed, there was nothing.

Thinking of, he needed to get these coins somewhere. Especially before his odd behaviour became too obvious. Now that he had retracted his mind from such a distracted mind, he realised he had been slipping his pinky finger in and out of the ring. A glance at the sky told him that the sun wasn't in the right position to reflect off the metal, which would have given him away immediately, but it was still a dangerous thing to do. Seemed he had another habit to scrawl onto that mental list of his – _don't fiddle when you are distracted._

He'd forget it. He forgot basically everything on that list. Bad habits were harder to break than he had realised. He would admit, though, that he had become much, much better at lying.

He walked, calmly, like he knew exactly where he was going and what he was doing, not of any suspicion to the general public. He was even slightly distracted, as someone would usually be, but Red knew all too well it was for all the wrong reasons.

**_…_ **

It was still _right_ there. A pressure on his ears. Something was right there and it wanted him to listen but he _couldn't…_ no, he _wouldn't._

He would just go back and forget about it.

* * *

**~XoX~**

Allen had since ventured into opening his left eye, and now knew every little detail of the landscape in impressive memory. If he could draw, he would be able to recreate it on paper. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to draw. Well, he did, he just couldn't do it that well. Not well enough to create intricate and realistic images. Which wasn't surprising, considering his age, but… well… He could still dream.

With a sigh, he slumped back into the chair – was there even a less comfortable choice than _stone?_

**_Yes. There is. Don't test it._ **

If he hadn't been chained to the chair, Allen would have jumped up in surprise. He… He could…

 **_Yes, I hear what you're thinking, and it's_ ** **mighty annoying** **_. What are you, like, nine?_ **

Despite the awareness that he didn't have to speak aloud, Allen still gave his words to the nothingness that surrounded him. "… _Sure,_ we'll go with that." He was sure that this… 14th, or whatever he had described himself as, already knew how old he was. That did make Allen wonder how much more he would know, then, if that happened to be the case.

 ** _God, you sure are rather dark for some little kid._** The voice was once again heavy-laden with sarcasm that so nearly _dripped_ from the words being spoken… (Is it spoken, or is it something else? Allen just had to wonder.)

Allen wanted to find something to say, something bitter and equally sarcastic to roll from his tongue, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps it was because it was true? But then again, the upbringing hadn't been great so far, and at the moment it would seem he was being possessed. Really, it brought out a little of his old self, the _Red_ he was before Mana had come along. And after his moment of contemplating what possible sarcasm he could weave into the fabric of something so sad, he only came out with a single word. "Yeah…"

 ** _Oh, my god,_** the voice was a faux surprised – Allen could picture quite clearly someone widening their eyes and placing a hand over their mouth just for the dramatics of it, **_is that some hint of you being_** **solemn** ** _that I hear? No, that's_** **impossible.**

Allen's brows furrowed in annoyance at the mocking tenor the voice inherited, making fun of the single moment he had let any emotion break through to the surface. "Shut yer mouth, asshole. If you even 'ave a mouth that isn't _mine."_ He would remember not to let himself fall into the trap of being solemn or saddened again. Not with this… this _thing_ around, gauging his thoughts and pulling apart any weakness it could find.

 ** _Woah, woah, woah; who taught you that kind of language?_** A laugh, deep and rather gravelly, if anything. It was a laugh Allen would deem some type of villain to have. Well, that was from what he knew from villains in the stories that Mana had read him…

Oh, God- Did… What if that meant that the person in his body was a _villain-_

 **_I'm going to stop you right there. I am not a_ ** **villain.** **_On the contrary, I saved your life. You should be thankful._ **

Allen, firstly, took a moment to let that word roll around in his mind. _Contrary._ He wasn't too sure about what it means, completely, but it must have something to do with the way this 14th person thought they were doing something good. And, with that out of the road, he moved on to thinking more closely about the words… no, definitely not spoken… the words put into his mind. "But only, like… demons take people's bodies, and that's what you've done-"

 ** _You want the body back so bad?!_** Allen actually flinched at the sudden yell, so angry compared to moments prior. **_Then have it. God, you're so tiny and weak anyway, it's awful to be stuck in it like this."_**

He was about to answer, snap back something witty about the insults that had just been made, but before he could get them from his brain to his lips he was tumbling forward. The words left his mouth in a harsh exhale, and he simply plummeted downward into an abyss, no end in sight, no bottom to hit, falling, falling, falling…

* * *

**~XoX~**

He flew up into a sitting position the moment his eyes snapped open, inhaling noisily, grasping at his chest with the odd feeling that he wasn't quite _there._ After a moment of patting at his chest and shoulders, Allen actually took the chance to scan the area, keeping a hand settled on his sternum to monitor the inhale and exhale of breath from his lungs. In a way, it grounded him in the current situation, made him feel a little less nauseous and disoriented.

Air whistled against an empty… train station? No, not empty. On further inspection, it would seem the place was crumbling, stones wearing away and moulding with the weather and time that had been placed upon them. This place had to have been long abandoned.

"Why the hell would you leave me _here?"_ The cry echoed off of cracked stone, came rebounding back to him. Other than that, there was no answer. Seemed whoever it was who had so bothered him just moments prior had chosen now to shut up.

_Helpful._

Allen took his time in picking himself up off of the ground, giving consideration to the dull ache in many a place on his body. For a moment he stood, swaying slightly, letting everything that had just happened sink in. But it didn't _sink_ in – instead, it _burrowed_ beneath his skin and infected from within, and it hurt. He tried to stem the tears welling along the line of his lower lashes, but he couldn't. And besides, it didn't seem like the pesky person he had previously dealt with was around either. So he let them fall, silent drops that rolled down his cheeks in warm streaks, the skin flushing with red wherever they touched. And inside of him, something reached out for the comfort of Mana, of lying beneath that tree on the cold nights, of the creaking branches, but none of it was with him. All he could hear was the whistling of an abandoned space and all he could feel was the drowning sorrow and the bite of the cold against his skin.

_Where am I? Why aren't you answering? You can't just leave me here like this!_

A silence filled the space in his mind that the other voice resided. No pressure, no background static. Nobody is available to talk, it seemed. And it was unfair, so unfair, that he had to deal with this and then wake up in the middle of nowhere, alone and afraid.

So he shuffled his way into the building, dust floating in the stagnant air, swirling as his walking stirred it from a long slumber. The air smelled of water and dirt, and earthy scent that revealed that mould and moss would be trailing up the walls at this point. It was still, however, a shelter from the wind, and for that he was grateful. Benches still resided within the building, coated with a heavy layer of grime and dust – but then again, Allen's skin was the same anyway. His clothes, too. A little more really didn't matter all that much at this point.

He didn't try to get comfortable lying on the bench. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, let alone be comfortable on the bench. It wasn't that he hadn't slept on similar surfaces and the like before. No, it was something different, something he couldn't put a name or a feeling to. No matter what it was, he would simply lie here for a while, recover from aching nausea that settled in his stomach and rose to the back of his mouth. His eyes flicked over the ceiling in imaginary patterns, right hand rested upon his abdomen, his eyes wide and staring upward.

Yes, regardless of how close it could possibly be to sunrise at that point, it was going to be a long night.

* * *

**...**

**So, here I am. Alive and doing okay. On hiatus, but I still decided to put out a chapter. It's a short one, I admit, only coming in at a lazy 2000 words, but you know what? I got up, I opened word and I _did it._ That's a lot more than I can say for the past... well, few months, really. So I'm sorry I'm so slack, even the things I enjoy (writing and drawing and the like) are just so much effort and so tiring and it's really hard to feel like I can't keep up or won't ever be good enough/better than those around me.**

**But that's enough of that rant. I'm sure you're not here to listen to me whine, ahaha. I'm glad I could get this chapter out, as sure as I am that it has a multitude of mistakes due to it now being 4:30am. We get to hear a bit more from the 14th, a little bit of Red, just a little bit more development before I decide to really get into things in this story (because I do have a plan! Kinda...)**

**Have a nice day!**

**CryDon'tSmile**

* * *

_**P.S. If you really wanna see more of me/my art, you can head on over to my tumblr under the username 'crydontsmile' or on deviantart, once again, under 'crydontsmile'. Thanks~** _


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bleh.

**Just some warnings for a bit of violence and animal abuse, just if anyone is particularly upset by that. But nothing severe. Also! I have changed the name of the story to _'Fated'_ , so don't get too confused!**

* * *

**Fated**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

**~XoX~**

Allen didn't particularly remember sleeping. Perhaps he did nod off for a few minutes between the long hours of the night, but all he could envision was the crumbling ceiling. He wasn't willing to go back outside, not in the cold, but there was also the reoccurring thought that the roof could very well fall down on him. What was there to stabilise it, after all?

Eventually, a new day's shade of orange spilled over the horizon, bringing light to dark, but doing nothing to erase the bitter cold that lingered heavy in the air. Allen rolled, and dragged himself up off of the stone ground with trembling limbs, dreading the moment he would have to set foot outside of the old building. That wasn't to say it was warm – no, it lacked any warmth whatsoever. But he figured shelter would be better than the drifting snowflakes lodging in his hair. However, he could not stay here. Not if he wanted to  _live._

He sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts and allowing the icy air whistling around him to make him more alert. His fingers stretched out along the cold, cobbled ground, in search of debris and loose rocks that were scattered around him. He slipped a few freezing pebbles into his near-mangled pockets, supposing they could come in handy at some point. If he needed, he could throw them quite hard at anything – or any _body_  – that might make an attempt to attack him. And, after another moment, of rest, he knew he would have to get up now and make some effort to find… somewhere.

So, despite his fierce shaking, Allen trudged out into the snow, ignoring the bitter chill that nipped at any of his exposed flesh. Cold, cold, cold. Silvery eyes flickered over the landscape that stretched out in every direction, blanketed with a layer of snow. Odd, to think of snow like a blanket, when it, in fact, did everything in its power to keep someone from feeling warm.

Despite his best searching, Allen couldn't find anything. Nothing but snow and trees and more snow. It stretched out as far as the eye could see. He couldn't catch any glimpse of a building other than the train station just behind him, which was especially concerning, considering there were no notable abandoned train stations around where he had been before.

_Damn this!_

With a huff, he kicked up a puff of white powder from a nearby pile of snow, circling around the building in search of a sign. However, despite the numerous rounds he stalked, he found nothing but the large, glaring sign fastened to the very front of the building – 'TRAIN STATION'. Even that had worn down considerably with age, covered with layers of dirt and grime.

His frustration only welled at the inability to place where he actually was on this goddamn earth. He considered throwing a fist at the building, but the harsh stone would only inevitably hurt his hand. Instead, he focused his rage towards that moron that seemingly lived in his head, yelling into the empty air.

"Oi, four-teenth, or whoever you were! Where the hell did you take me?!"

Nothing but the whistling of the wind in the empty stone building followed.

Allen growled, muttering obscene curses unfit for a child under his breath, glaring into the white snow below his freezing feet. "Come on, you can't just leave me here!" His voice had begun to crack with the overwhelming sense of frustration, and the tinge of panic that had begun to creep into his mind. He couldn't stay here, not with this cold, not with his tattered clothes. He would die. He would freeze to death.

But still, no answer came from the self-labelled fourteenth. Just that weird, silent static that came with his hush. The emptiness of the space set Allen on edge. It was… eerie, contemplative even. But with that anxiety came  _anger._ White-hot anger that burned in his lungs and put red in the edges of his vision. It was near soul-shattering, the sudden feeling that raged in his core, making his hands tremble. He was angry at the fourteenth, for bringing him here.

He was angry at God, for letting this happen to him.

He was angry at himself, for letting this happen to himself.

This was the fourteenth's fault! This was God's fault! This was  _his_ fault!

_This was Mana's fault!_

He tilted his head back, mouth tearing open in a loud shriek, one that echoed through the stone and into the snow-swirled air above him. He continued screaming, letting out as much of that rage in a single yell as he possibly could, until his throat hurt and his lungs ached and tears streaked down cold cheeks. His head dropped forward again at that, tears spilling heavy from closed eyes as he dropped down to his knees, hands lost to a thick layer of snow. And underneath his fingertips, something…

Wood?

His eyes popped back open, reddened around the edges from the tears, surprise filling them. Icy fingers swiped away the snow that covered whatever it was, hoping, praying… Yes! He almost shouted in delight at seeing the wooden arrow, engraved with what appeared to be the name of a town, though it had long faded and was near-impossible for him to read. His eyes followed the direction of the arrow, landing on a post he had ignored when first looking at the building, seeing it as nothing significant. But, perhaps… Did it mark the start of a path?

Whatever it was, it was his only clue, and he was willing to follow it.

So, after running his fingers through his hair to dust out the lodged snow, he began his trek in the exact direction the arrow had suggested and trusted that it would actually take him somewhere.

* * *

**~XoX~**

Red had been studying the ring he'd collected for a while now, almost intensely. Pale eyes focused on the shiny gold band, watched the flickering of the small, clear gem held on the top of it by some kind of… claw-like case. It was very pretty. The kind of pretty he wanted to eat but knew he couldn't. A lot of pretty things couldn't be eaten, unfortunately – and that included the brightly coloured rat poison that was often scattered around the circus.

He was so fascinated by the ring, he was too slow to notice the figure looming over him. Suddenly, a foot met with his ribs, sending him tumbling to the ground and the ring flying out of his hand. Still, his fingers clenched as though he still held it, curled with pain. His eyes travelled up to try and make out the face of his sudden attacker, but the sun glared into his eyes and blinded him, leaving him unable to make out any of their features. Surely it was somebody else from the circus? They were always picking on him. They'd probably seen… the ring!

Immediately, despite the numerous kicks to his body and the unintelligible yelling of the other, his tried to scramble up, eyes searching for the flash of the gold ring. He couldn't spot it anywhere, so it must have gone a fair distance. It was only then that he could make sense of what the other was yelling as they belted him, ears ringing with panic.

"Where is it, you little brat? You had a fucking ring, I saw it, where did it go?"

"I don' 'ave one!" Red screeched back, kicking furiously back at the other, hoping to get them in the shins. Their voice was gruff as they continue yelling, leaning down to try and pry his hand open.

"I know you had it! Just give it to me!"

"I-I-" Red frantically searched for something to say, for anything to roll off of his tongue that could protect him from a less fortunate fate. Leave it to grown-ups to pick on little kids. He never wanted to grow up, not if he would be like that. "I don' 'ave it! Ya kicked it outta my 'and!" Red uncurled his fingers to prove a point, only to regret it as a large foot crushed his empty attachment.

With a shriek, he kicked for their face, now that they were leaning in nice and close. And he got them, right in the nose, and he couldn't have been happier about the crunch under his foot and the blood that sprayed onto his feet. "The ring is on the ground!"

"Little shit…" the man hissed, clutching his bleeding nose and shoving Red away with a swift kick. "You better hope I can find it…"

However, Red wasn't staying for when he did, or when he didn't. Despite the ache of his ribs and arms and legs, he practically sprung up, turning tail and bolting away from the scene. His only idea was to climb a nearby tree, as though he were protecting himself from some kind of wild animal. So, with bony fingers, he dragged himself up, branch by branch, until he teetered dangerously on a high branch.

He could have stayed up there for hours, or for only minutes. He didn't know. Red had never had a clear perception of time. All he knew was that he had waited for that man to leave, and eventually – though it was after a lot of searching for both the ring and for Red – he did.

Slowly, Red slid back down the tree, step by step, careful not to fall. Surely he would die, falling from such a height. But he wasn't scared of heights, not at all. It was simply an awareness that lingered in the back of his head. So, he risked it, taking a larger step onto a more fragile looking branch.

**_Careful!_ **

Red's head snapped up, looking around the immediate area. That voice again! But, first and foremost, he was worried someone had seen him up in the tree. He'd be in so much trouble if somebody saw him.

But, after another thorough sweep of the area, he saw nobody – at least, nobody who was looking at him. So he shook it off, ignored it. Surely it was just him panicking for his own safety, and he'd mistaken it for an outside noise. Yeah, that had to be it. There was no other explanation.

Once he was close to the bottom, Red dropped from the tree, landing deftly on the ground. Without hesitation, he scurried towards where he was believed the ring to have landed, searching frantically. He didn't remember seeing the man pick it up, but… Oh god, he hoped the man didn't find it. He needed that ring. To sell it, to bargain, to… to  _live._

He searched for ages. Until the sun had dipped lower in the sky and clouds had begun to fill the air, dark and rumbling. It was going to rain, but Red didn't care. He needed that ring. Yet his eyes caught on a dog after a moment, small, sniffing curiously at the ground. Inquisitively, Red craned his neck to try and catch sight of whatever it was the dog was sniffling. Maybe it was something worth his time.

After catching the gleam of something lodged in the dirt, Red lunged forward, yelling. "Get away from tha'! Tha's mine!"

The dog, unsurprising, reversed rather fast, terrified by the child screaming at it. It barked, though. Red took at as a sign of aggression, rumbling up a growl from deep in his chest, imitating a dog as best he could. He didn't exactly know  _what_ a dog would want a ring for, but he felt threatened anyway. It was  _his._

Red slid down onto his knees to gather up the piece of jewelry, cradling it in his hands like it was far more fragile that it had proven itself to be. With unsteady fingers, he brushed away the dirt on it, heart beating in a timorous fashion, and quickly slipped it into his pocket. It would be safer there. Slowly, he looked up at the dog, who cowered back, tail between its legs. Now that the 'threat' was gone, Red… felt kinda bad. There was no reason to scare the dog away – it had been what helped him find the ring.

"C'mere," he muttered softly, reaching out to the dog with his right hand. "I'm sorry I scared ya…"

Still, the dog cowers, so he kept trying, voice little more than as soothing a whisper he can manage.

"It's okay, I'm not gonna yell again, if tha's what ya scared o'…"

Slowly, ever so slowly, the dog slunk toward him, but sauntered right on past Red's outstretched hand. And, before he can even react, it had licked his left hand.

* * *

**~XoX~**

Allen's feet ached, eyes weary and staring forward in bitter anticipation. His hopes for a town had been quelled, at this point. He had been walking for far too long for there to possibly be anything. The sun was much higher in the clouded sky now, but it brought no warmth to him. No, all he got was the bite of cold water, all thanks to the snow that had soaked into his shoes.

"Please," he begged to nothing, though it was intended for the daft man within his head. "You can't just leave me here, not like this. I'm gonna freeze!"

Still, he was met with that ever-infuriating silence. Seemed he was going to have to make an attempt to play a game of wits. Mana had always taught him not to be rude, but that meant nothing now. Mana was…

With a shake of his small head, Allen pushed back the memories that constantly threatened the edges of his mind, searching for a break in the barrier built up there. Not now. There was no time. He could be sad later.

He thought hard for a few moments, choosing to stand still, eyes catching on the snow swirling on the icy wind that whipped around him. A hand lifted, a finger tapped at his juddering lip. What to do, what to do…? Silver eyes broadened at the inevitable realization – this person lived in his  _head._ If Allen were to die, this man would die too, surely.

So Allen stuck his nose in the air and plopped down into the snow. Indignantly, he folded his arms over his chest, acting much like a spoiled child. "Well, seems we're both going to have to die then, it seems. So sorry,  _fourteenth,_ but guess there's nothing I can do about it."

The silence quivered, if Allen could even explain it as such. The static flickered, much like a breath. But it wasn't enough. Allen clearly hadn't convinced the body-stealer that he was serious. So, with a sharp breath in he fell back into the snowdrift, sinking into it. He could already feel the frostbite nibbling at his fingers and toes, but no problem. "Gee, I'm awful tired…" He was, actually, shivering in the bed of snow. His eyes slowly slid closed. "I  _suppose_ I'll just have to sleep here."

**_Get up this instant, you dumb brat._ **

"Gosh, it's almost like I'm hearing things… Ah, well, it must just be cold." Allen went on with his resting, body quaking amongst the blanket of white.

**_Get up, or I'm going to make you._ **

Silence.

**_A…Are you seriously…?_ **

More silence.

**_I_ ** **know** **_you're awake, don't ignore me like this! Get out of the snow!_ **

Allen kept his lips sealed, and his thoughts focused entirely on the cold snow that melted in his hair.

**_What the hell are you doing?! Listen to me, right now!_ **

A smile quirked at Allen's blue-tinged lips, eyes cracking open to study the clouds that swirled about, snow spinning down from the heaven's and landing on his pale skin. "Doesn't feel good, does it?"

**_…_ **

Allen could just about feel the tension building within… whoever the hell was in his head. He didn't want to call him  _fourteenth,_ it sounded  _stupid._

**_Says you. Your name was 'Red'._ **

Well, that had Allen bolting dead upright, brushing snow off of his shoulders. "No. It wasn't. Now, are you going to help me?"

**_…_ ** **_Fine. Just keep going the way you're going. There's definitely a town._ **

"You promise?"

**_…_ ** **_I don't promise anything to little kids._ **

"Well fuck you too then."

The language seemed to catch the other off guard, as the static died down a little. Allen continued trudging forward, ignoring the water rolling along the curve of his spine. With each crunching step, he grew wearier yet again. How long was this going to go on?

The voice sounded rather amused when it spoke again, ringing with mockery.  ** _It could be hours. I wouldn't be surprised if the sun has set by the time we get there, especially with your tiny legs~_**

So Allen lumbered on, step by step in the subzero temperatures, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower. Soon enough, just as the voice had predicted, it was nearly dark – yet there was still no sign of any sort of town.

**_I'm sure…_** Allen didn't like the concern that had suddenly filled the fourteenth's tone.  ** _I'm sure it's here. Go over that hill. It has to be there._**

With a final push of his weary legs, Allen tramped over the hill – lo and behold, just a few more minutes away were the flickering lights of a snow-drenched town. Thank god. So Allen stumbled right back down the hill, nearly falling and rolling down, desperate to reach the lights that were just out of his reach. Lights meant warmth, warmth meant it was safe to sleep. Finally.

"Look, we're here."

Silence, and then…

**_I can see, moron. You have eyes, and I use them._ **

Well, Allen hoped the eyeroll was obvious enough to him, then. Last time he ever tried to be nice. And with sore hands, sore feet, sore everything, Allen stumbled up to the first door he set eyes upon, and rapped his knuckles against it.

_Finally._

* * *

**~XoX~**

Red's reaction had been one of fear. Of fear, of disgust, of  _hatred._ The moment the dog dared to  _near_ his left hand, dared to  _lick_ it…

The anger was blinding.

It had been abrupt, the sudden jump back to his feet, and the instantaneous kick directed at the mutt. It had yelped, cried, scampered away with what was surely confusion. And Red seethed, shouting after it. "That's right, piss off, ya dumb mutt!"

Long after the dog had run away, Red stood, the dirt hot and sharp against his feet, anger and guilt prickling across his neck. For too long, he stayed, and let himself be swept up by the emotions, like one of those… one of those large waves he had seen in pretty pictures, ones that could probably sweep away a whole town, if they wanted.

Red was that town. The waves, his emotions.

He walked away.

* * *

**...**

**I basically never update these days. But, I couldn't stop myself from writing this chapter, and I'm just gonna post it now and hate it later, lmao. Hope you enjoyed.**

**Please leave a comment, some kudos, something. It's super appreciated!**

**CryDon'tSmile**


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